Our Red Strings of Fate
by windxalchemist
Summary: Letting go wasn't supposed to be this hard. His only solace was the fact that their Red Strings of Fate were forevermore entwined, no matter where, what, when, how, and why they were. [IchiRuki]
1. Prologue

Title: Prologue: Our Red Strings of Fate were Forevermore Entwined.

Windy-chan's section: Okay. So, hello everyone. :D I'm Windy-chan, and you've probably seen my 12 Days of Ichigo Torture fic running around this place, no? Well, I won't guarantee that it's good, because I think it needs a lot of work, honestly. But other people seem to have enjoyed it, so, that makes me extremely happy. :) warm feeling Anyways, point being, this was my eighth chapter in that fic. So, this isn't really an original by itself, but I'm posting this as a full chaptered story. I don't know how many chapters it will be yet, but I'm not planning on making it too long.

I won't give away any ideas as to how each chapter is going to be, but I'm trying to take up with new styles/genres of writing. I don't exactly favor mine over every other writer's, but mine is adequate, and keeps me happy. Still, I'm trying to expand as a writer, so, I hope that if you decide to review, that you could leave a suggestion for a prompt, or introduce to me a new style/genre of writing. By style/genre I mean like acid fiction, trip fiction, dark fiction, motion fiction. I don't know if I can pull it off, but I'd put your suggestion to utmost consideration.

Thank you very much for reading those two paragraphs of my boring talking. And now on to the Deathberry!

* * *

_Prologue:_

"Ichigo. Ichigo," a voice hissed impatiently in the darkness.

The boy didn't react to the voice at all, just gave a half asleep "Hnn. Five more minutes," before pulling a pillow over his head.

"Ichigo!" the voice persisted, louder this time, "I'm thirsty!"

"Argh! Damn you, Rukia! Get your own water!" the boy muttered, clearly annoyed with the feminine voice that insisted its thirst.

He groggily untangled himself from the bedding, and made his way through the silent house, through the darkness, into the kitchen.

After crashing into multiple walls to fulfill his quest, the boy trudged his way back to his room. He opened the closet door, grumbling to no one in particular in his sluggish state.

"Rukia? Damn it, Rukia. Take the damn water!" he seethed, still heavy-eyed.

There was no voice to reward the boy for brining back its water. He opened his eyes in shock. The closet. It was…empty.

As it had been for the past two months.

Suddenly, it came crashing back down on him. Shinigami, Soul Society, arrancar, Aizen, Shiba Kaien, Hueco Mendo, Vaizard, Shinji, the war, Rukia.

Rukia.

This voice, this Rukia, she had left him again.

Right, because he was a mere mortal, and she, a shinigami. Their lives weren't supposed to cross over at all. Even the short amount of time that they had spent together wasn't allowed. They had only depended on him because of the dire situation in which he could lend them power. They weren't supposed to meet.

_"You need to lead a normal life," she had asserted, when he asked her to stay this time around._

_"Shut up! As if I could do that __**now**__," the redhead shot back angrily. "Besides, normality is overrated."_

The said redhead stands there for what seems like an eternity. The thoughts pulsating through his head, they were somewhat like a routine now. A way to remind himself, "Hey, you have a normal life now. Be happy." Alas, the pain failed to subside.

"Ichigo, you should go to sleep." The voice was back, and so was she.

For a split second, he really believed that it was her, sitting on the untouched bed spreads in his closet. She looked so serene, so familiar, in her normal change of Yuzu's pajamas, just peering up at him, bossing him around.

Just like she used to.

"Pfft. You're one to talk. Asking me for water at three in the morning," he retorted, secretly overflowing with joy at her presence.

"Ah! Water! Thank you!" she nearly singsonged as she scooped the glass from the now fully awake boy. She gulped down the water hastily.

He looked at the windows, making sure that they were locked tightly, the door also. He didn't want her to leave again. This time, he'd do a better job of keeping her here. He would handcuff her, put duct tape around her mouth, and tie her up, just to keep her in his closet.

"Rukia, look, I-" but when he looked back at the girl, she was no longer there. It was just him, with a full glass of water, talking to an empty closet.

He nearly dropped the water in his hand. Until he remembered, again. Rukia. Was. Not. Here. She was in Soul Society, and he in the mortal world, where mortal boys like him belonged.

The boy cursed and berated himself for actually allowing himself the hope of her being here, for believing, for wanting. Had he gone and allowed himself to become so pitiful as to hear voices?

He was delusional. That was it. He had driven himself into insanity, and become one of those crazed psychopaths who hallucinated and talked to thin air. He had little doubt that he might wake up to find himself bound in a straitjacket in a padded room. Yes, the Strawberry was definitely considering taking narcotics before he went to sleep. Then, maybe, for the firs time in a long time, he would be able to get a peaceful night's rest.

The boy ran his calloused hand through his spiked hair, giving a wistful sigh, before returning to his bed, facing _away_ from the closet. After another minute of grumbling, he decided there was no way in hell that he'd get any sleep tonight. He wouldn't allow himself the luxury of sleep, because even sleep could turn and betray him. It would ensnare him, his mind, and his senses. It could manipulate his memories, thoughts, and wants into a phantasmagoria which he would eventually awake from. And the emptiness in his chest would grow even worse. Maybe the Hollow within the boy was finally taking over? Because he was pretty sure that there was a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. He didn't know, but as he willed himself to not fall asleep, he watched the closet. Hoping that maybe, this was some bad nightmare, and that he wasn't really delusional at all. Maybe, just maybe, the girl would be real.

He exhaled loudly.

It was the third time this week.

* * *

Thanks for reading :D 

I'm not going to be annoying and be all, "Press the pretty button." Because honestly, those make people even less eager to review. So, I'll let you do as you please, because sometimes, reviewing's a hassle. I understand it. But, feedback is always great for a writer. Sometimes just one excellent review can make your whole day. I don't like to read flames, thank you very much. Unless you found the writing immensely, disgustingly, invariably, horrible, I'd rather you not. Still, if it's good flaming, (excuse the pun), where you give me criticism and tell me exactly why, I'll take it into consideration and try to change it. Also, I don't like it very much when people go, "Cute!" and that's it. Because then, I don't know why they liked it, or disliked it. Or anything. In fact, all I know is, that they thought it was cute. And I know that too, because I wanted it to be cute, so I wrote a cute story. Or a sad story, or a happy one, etc. But the point is, I want to know what you felt when you read it. I feel like reviews are a communication line between the reader&writer. And since I'm not some big time writer, I can and will actually reply and fix my works, listening to what my readers thought. It's okay to tell me that it was bad, or you didn't like something. Don't be timid about it. There's a line between rude and constructive criticism, though, so take that into consideration before you write something. But, I can take criticism, there are a lot better writers out there than I, so, I'm willing to listen to what you as a writer has to say about it.

Damn. Now my author's notes are as long as my story. Sorry to rant. I hope you enjoyed this short prologue of what's to come. :D


	2. String One

Our Red Strings of Fate:

String One.

Windy-chan's reminder: I like to use the flashback style in my writing a lot, so whenever there are italics, that means it's a flashback or something that's not in the present.

---

Ichigo checked his chest in the mirror, very thoroughly, in fact. He even went so far as to sneak into the clinic to use his dad's stethoscope. Just to make sure. To make sure that his heart was still beating. Because right now, he wasn't quite sure of anything, much less of himself and his sanity, or the lack of.

At school, he became a rather lifeless doll, just taking in oxygen. He didn't put an effort into the class. He only worked to keep his grades up. School, in other words the clever death trap that the government had created for people such as him. Everything in his life became a dull routine; he was just living his life day by day, just barely pulling through. He had often angrily wondered what Rukia was doing in Soul Society. She wasn't going through this hell that he was living in, was she? She didn't have to go to school, where around every corner lurked a memory he had shared with _her_. Even the desk that was next to his, even that lifeless, unanimated piece of metal and wood held memories of her so dear. He didn't appreciate it half the time, but she had sat right next to him. He could almost hear her sugar coated laugh.

_"Oh ho ho! Kurosaki-kun! You make me laugh!"_

Punch.

"_Oh dear, we must get to the nurses office, immediately! I shall assist you, Kurosaki-kun!"_

Sugary smile.

He could help but give a small grin at the thought, but a sudden thought irked him. Her voice, it wasn't as strong as the real thing. After all, it was only but a memory, and compared to the real thing…it just. He felt his hear sink once more. His memory of her was slowly growing weaker. How soon would it be, before her voice was disintegrated into dust within his own brain?

He grumbled to himself. Then he tried to resume his normal habit of nothing thinking about her. The thing was, where in this world could he go without thinking of Rukia?

Nowhere.

Fan_fucking_tastic.

Out of the blue, he heard a blood curdling, ear piercing scream. His eyes widened in shock.

Hollow.

He buried his head into his arms, trying to lessen the volume of the scream. There were other shinigami dispatched here, he didn't need to worry, right?

He continued to ignore it, burying his head deeper and deeper, as the shrill cries invaded his tender eardrums again and again. He looked back at Chad, and shook his head, rejecting any help.

"Oi! Kurosaki! What are you doing!" the teacher barked, apparently not caring that his precious ear drums were in deep pain.

"Sorry, Ochi-sensei, but I feel kind of nauseous. I need to go to the nurse." His conscience had gotten the better of him; he needed to go kill the hollow. He got up from his desk and shoved open the heavy sliding door, making his way to the bathroom to dispose of his body for the time being.

Even as he ran down the steps in full attire, it hurt. As he ran out of the school yard, and towards the damned hollow, it hurt. He hadn't transformed into his current state ever since she left, and swinging his zanpakutou around didn't exactly evaporate the memories into thin air.

As he rounded the corner, he spotted the beast, as it roamed around the empty alley. Ichigo stopped dead in his tracks. It was a Huge Hollow. It spotted him. His mind told him to move, but his body was frozen, refusing to respond. No. This brought back too much. Too much for him to comprehend within those short five minutes. He couldn't just suddenly break his habit of ignoring his thoughts of her, and then have it shoved up his ass in huge increments like this. Why was everything spilling out today? Why was it so hard today? He just needed to get by, day by day, that was his game plan for the rest of his life, he'd already decided. What was it with him today?

It took a swing at him. The blow had almost connected. Another second and it would have been his head crushed under the fist of that hollow right now.

"Idiot! Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?" a bossy voice screamed.

Rukia!

He whipped his head around, searching for traces of the ebony-haired shinigami girl.

He heard the beast behind him roar. Its fist came down again, mere feet away from his foot.

"Dumbass! Strike the hollow! The mask! Break the mask!"

There it was again. Her voice, but where was she?

Where the hell was Rukia?!

"I know that, where are you?!"

"Concentrate on the hollow!"

The voice. It wasn't the sound of her screaming from across the street. It was like she was yelling in his ear. Almost like she was…

In his head.

As realization hit him squarely in the mouth, he gave a calculated swing of Zangetsu, murdering the hollow with a vengeance.

"Damn it!" he cursed loudly, before falling to the ground in anger, breathing heavily.

He had allowed his hopes to go soaring, flying once again; all because he heard her voice. It wasn't as though if it really was her voice either. It was just a figment of his sick, twisted imagination. He lay on his back, sweat trickling down his heated skin. He could have sworn that it was really her. Her voice, it was so strong, so real. He felt the desire, the need ripping through his nerves and senses, demanding to hear her voice again. Almost as if he was addicted to a drug. Her voice, that's all he could even dare to ask for.

After a while, he ran back to school, trying to escape the embittering experience that he had just been through. He was trying to forget how good it felt to have something that was _her_ with him. If he hoped, he'd fly, soaring above the clouds. Then, when he looked down to see that he really wasn't flying, and that he was just falling, he'd crash under, into a living undead sort of state which he couldn't escape from.

He slowly made his way to retrieve his lifeless body from the empty bathroom stall. He remembered his excuse for leaving the classroom, and idly wondered if he should go back to the classroom, feigning recovery. He was thinking of heading on back, until he looked in the mirror. Black shinigami robes. Black.

Black.

He gave an agonized groan, before slamming himself against the wall in disgust of himself. Why was he being so shaken up today? Hadn't he been able to deal with the past two months okay? So why did his mind choose _today_ to have an emotional breakdown?

Those thoughts lingered as he quietly stole down the stairs of the school. His excuse to leave the classroom was no longer merely an excuse. He could nearly feel his breakfast threatening to regurgitate itself. While clutching onto his stomach, he started to walk on the path that lead to the long way home.

No. Wait. Not home. Home had memories. He needed to clear his mind. He needed something, anything, a distraction, but as he thought about it more and more, he found that there were no distractions. What, exactly, was there to distract him? It wasn't like he could suddenly hitch hike his way to Tokyo and back in time for dinner.

He roamed down the streets of downtown, receiving reproachful looks from old busybody ladies who tittered amongst themselves about his. "That orange haired child, he looks old enough to be a senior, and yet he's going out and playing hooky at this time of day. You can already tell by his hair that he's a delinquent."

He ignored their idle gossip, settling with standing on the rooftop of the shopping center. It wasn't all that high, really, compared to the sky scrapers in Tokyo¹, but _she_ was pretty satisfied when they came up here the first time.

---

"_Wow, Ichigo! It's so tall! You can observe everything from up here!"_

"_So then why don't you stay up here __**all**__ the time instead of complaining that my closet's too damn cramped," he wanted to add, but shut his mouth, knowing better. _

_Four months into their, albeit bizarre, yet fateful meeting, he'd learned many thing about Rukia. One of which included: a happy Rukia meant a happy Ichigo. _

---

He almost smiled at the thought of Rukia leaning over the edges of the fencing.

---

_"Idiot!" he hollered, as he grabbed onto her slender arms. "You're going to fall off!"_

_"Oh? I don't see why __**you'd**__ care!" she haughtily remarked, as he eased her off of the platform where she stood._

_He opened his mouth, and then closed it, too flustered to say anything. In truth, he did care, and she knew damn well that he did._

---

"Hmm," he sighed, as the memories flooded back.

He'd given up on trying stopping them now. Maybe, today was just one of those days where he needed to think. He stood on the platform where Rukia stood those many years ago. He tried to let go of the things within. He wanted to; he didn't _want_ this, this burden, this pain anymore. He wasn't ready to move on, but this constant numbness, he wanted to melt it away. He wanted to be able to look back at these memories of her with a smile instead of a bitter feeling in his mouth.

Ichigo closed his eyes, hoping that some sort of miracle would happen, just…something.

Something did happen.

A huge gust of wind came, and knocked him off balance, nearly sending him toppling off the five story building. He grabbed steadfast onto the railing, legs dangling in midair. So much for miracles, someone up there just wanted him to die.

"Are you crazy?! Stop trying to commit suicide, you fool!"

It was back. Like she was screaming in his ear. Nice and loud, unlike the faded memories that he'd been looking back on.

"No," he cheekily replied.

"Stop it! You're making me nervous!"

"Oh? I don't see why _you'd_ care," he quipped, using the same haughty tone that she'd used against him those many years ago.

"You know I do, Ichigo!" she snapped.

With that he got down onto the platform once more. He gave a scowl as he noticed that her voice was gone once more. Ichigo sat back down, reminiscing, remembering a few of their moments up here on this roof top. He found, it was easier today. It didn't hurt as badly, the nostalgia stung a bit less, and the name 'Rukia' wasn't as much of a taboo as it normally was. Maybe he was starting to heal the numbness.

---

_"Oi. Here's your lemonade." He handed her the yellow can, before taking a seat next to her._

_She glared at it, dejected. "Ichigo, how does one operate this machinery?"_

_"Hm?" he gave her a sideways glance, opening his own can of soda._

_Her eyes lit up at once._

_"Oh, I see!" she exclaimed, imitating his subconscious act._

_"Stupid," he muttered, before taking a sip out of his drink._

---

Human customs and culture had always amazed her so. She was so much like a child in that respect. He never recalled her acting as such in Soul Society. It was like, here in the mortal world, she could let go of her noble bonds with the House of Kuchiki, and she could be Rukia. Not Kuchiki Rukia, or Rukia of the Noble House of Kuchiki; just Rukia.

---

_"Pfft, whatever, you brother just loves to chew my ass of," he scornfully replied, pacing back and forth aimlessly._

_"No, it's true! He came to thank you, but Nii-sama's not exactly…good with verbal communication," she protested._

_"Right, Rukia, as is '_Idiot, take better care of my sister next time,'_ means thank you." He sat back down on the bench against the vending machine, looking away._

_"It does with Nii-sama," she answered. Her voice then softened, "It's because he cared, you know. About me, about you? We just came back from Hueco Mendo half alive; he was very worried. Even about you. He really was thanking you."_

_Ichigo looked down at the girl, peering from one eye, trying to read her facial expression._

_"You know Ichigo, when Nii-sama came to the house, it was…like a sore thumb sticking out on a manicured hand. It was because of you that Nii-sama was able to truly show that he cares. Then, it was like remembering, how twisted your fate had become. Had we not met, would this have never happened? Would you be much happier? Not as scarred, or as hurt?"_

_She was wearing that apologetic look on her face. The one that made his throat start to constrict. The look she wore when she felt guilty about their entwined fates. He didn't want to be the cause of that pain. He wanted to yell at her, tell her that she had changed his life, that she gave his life some meaning, that she gave him the power to protect people and do things that he'd never even dreamt of being able to do, that meeting her was a good thing, the best thing that had ever happened to him, but he didn't. _

_Panicked, he tried to reason with her. "Hey, it's not your fault. I chose this life; you didn't force me to do it. If anything, you...were…you changed it, my life. Didn't you know?" he stole another glance at her, from the corner of his eye._

_She looked up in surprise, meeting his one amber eye. He gave her a smile, the one that let her know that everything was okay; she smiled back, the one that made his heart soar, the one that she smiled when she was truly happy._

_---_

_He leaned in; her back pressed against the side of the vending machine, both of them sitting on the bench. His half lidded eyes were soaking her in. Her face, her image. He could feel the nervousness in the air, as he took the moment to anticipate, that moment before the kiss that might be better than the actual kiss itself. He inched in closer, so close that their noses nearly touched, but he noticed that her eyes were clenched shut, and she was shrinking back into the soda machine as much as possible. _

_That's when he gave a sigh, and then a quiet chuckle rang from his throat. Rukia stared up at him, eyes wide._

_"I guess we're not there yet," he whispered, before gingerly kissing her forehead instead._

_They walked home holding hands._

_---_

He frowned in thought, before putting his fingers to his lips. His lips. They had touched, treaded into many forbidden places in its lifetime. They had met her mouth in many-a-kiss, whispered words of comfort into her ear, argued, bickered, bantered with her, and screamed at her, swore vengeance on her enemies, and during the nights had gasped out her name in need, moaning her name like a mantra.

Yes. They'd been through a rather lot, hadn't they? More than a lifetime of experiences in those short four years.

He stood up on the platform once more, yelling, regardless of who was watching or listening below.

"Are you listening, Rukia?" he asked, hoping the wind would convey his message to her in Soul Society.

And as usual, there was no answer in return.

* * *

¹ Karakura Town is in the suburbs of Tokyo, so that's why I kept referring to Tokyo, not because it's the only town in my knowledge of Japan. There are plenty of other cool cities in Japan.

Arigatou gozaimasu for reading:D

I hope to have the next chapter up in a couple of days, so stick around to see!


	3. String Two

Our Red Strings of Fate

String Two.

Characters: Ichigo, Rukia, Chad, Tatsuki, Ishida, Inoue.

Pairings/Relationships: IchiRuki, Ichigo!Tatsuki Friendship, Ichigo!Chad friendsip, Ichigo!Ishidafriendship...and with Inoue? Well...I try not to put her in my writing much. XD

* * *

"You ditched yesterday."

"Hm," he acknowledged the accusation with little to no remorse.

"Bags under your eyes."

"Mm?" he hadn't noticed. He'd been out obliteration every fucking hollow that he could sense, just to keep himself busy. On top of that, he'd spent another sleepless night staring at the closet.

"You should get away."

"Hn," he grunted, leaning against the wired fencing of the school rooftop.

Ichigo turned his head around, taking a bite out of his food absently, only half listening.

"It's not good to think about it all the time."

"Ah," he murmured in agreement, no one had to tell him that for him to know that it was true. He was still in a daze, staring out at the blue horizon.

The two friends sat there in a companionable silence, eating their lunches. Even today, the memories came flinging at him, like an arrow at its target. He had no desire to try to keep up with his life, not when he was being weighed down so heavily by these…burdens. They were like weights on his arms and legs during a marathon race; only hindering him if he tried. So, he decided to be passive for a change, and had ceased to be completely functional ever since said decision.

"Chad," he suddenly spoke, eyes still glued to the great blue sky," is it unhealthy to, uh, hear … voices?"

The boy looked back at Ichigo with a puzzled, dumbfounded expression.

He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, "Voices? You mean, in your head?"

The Vaizard boy immediately jerked his head in Chad's direction. The notion sounded even more hysterical when repeated aloud, he decided. The way had had just said it made him feel certain that what he was going through was, indeed, something that was to be found in the file of a patient at an insane asylum.

"Uh, well, not really. Kind of. In my - uh –" he fished for a plausible alternative to the question laid before him. No success. "Uh. Yeah," he finished lamely.

Chad didn't respond at first. He seemed to be contemplating the best answer. Then, when he finally spoke, the only thing he said was, "You should get away." The reiteration of what he had said earlier, only now it had a note of urgency in it.

In other words, "Yes, Ichigo, talking to figments of one's imagination is, indeed, quite unhealthy, and usually marks one as being psychologically unstable."

He gave Chad a look, and he got an arched brow instead. It was the kind that Ru- _she_ had often worn, the kind that read, "Should I be worried?"

He gave a resigned sigh, and then proceeded to stand up.

"Yeah, you're right. I do."

The bell rang as his fellow classmates went back to class. He trailed on behind them, still in a daze. He seemed to always be in that half alive state of disregard, never really caring about anything, just getting by. He pulled his chair out of his desk, sitting down. He took a habitual glance at his neighboring, empty desk. That desk alone held its own share of thoughts and feelings.

Even thought it wasn't an animated figure of life, that chair was very symbolic of the times that had been spent in the school building. Just looking at it brought back so much.

"All right. So, everyone knows you're all graduating in a week. All you have left is today, and another five days. I'm sure everyone knows about the trip tomorrow, and if you don't, that probably means you aren't going –"

Class trip?

Right. Where was it at again?

Oh, yeah. The beach.

Damn. He realized that he _had_ taken Rukia just about every on the God damned planet.

The beach included.

--

_Is it… safe in there?" she asked pointing at the ocean._

_He looked up at the girl donned in a navy blue one piece swimming suit, her sunhat being abandoned next to him, under the umbrella long ago. He gave a scowl at her questionable glance towards the vast waters in front of her._

_"Yeah, I guess," he idly replied, sitting up._

_"You guess?! What's that supposed to mean?" She shot bad, indignant._

_"Well, it means yes, and no," he simply answered, then smirked, "Why, you scared?"_

_She returned the previous scowl, arms crossed over her chest defiantly. "No."_

_Unconvinced, he plopped back down on his back. "Sheesh. It's not like ocean's going to eat you, y'know," he said, closing his eyes, reveling in the warmth of the sun dried sand._

_When there was no sudden splash of water at his vain reassurance, he peeked out of his left eye, wondering what she was so afraid of._

_Her eyes still held that look of fear and curiosity. She hesitantly dipped a toe into the approaching wave that washed up the shore. When she didn't make any motion of running into the water, he got on his feet, highly impatient at her cautiousness._

_He crept up behind her slowly, then swooped her up in his arms, "C'mon, we're going in."_

_She flailed her arms and legs violently before he dropped her into the waist deep water, legs first. As soon as the lukewarm water made contact with her pale skin, she jumped like he'd never seen anything jump before, wrapping her arms around his shirtless waist._

_"Argh! The hell, Rukia!" he exclaimed, surprised at her sudden form of action. He raised his arms halfway, almost avoiding touching her more than necessary in that particular moment._

_Her eyes were tightly shut, and her face hidden in his chest. There was a moment of silence, and when it became clear that nothing in that ocean was trying to eat her guts, Rukia opened eyes._

_Ichigo rolled his eyes and huffed, annoyed with her childish behavior, and partially at himself for getting so flustered at their current predicament. The heat that was working up from his cheeks to his ears was becoming unbearable underneath the afternoon sun._

_"So, there really isn't anything, is there?" she confirmed._

_"No, Rukia, I don't think there is,' he replied, not reassuringly at all._

_But she didn't seem to notice. Slowly, Rukia let go of his waist, hands unclenching her death hold. She took a step back, grinning triumphantly at her newfound success of another human custom. _

_"Great, if you're satisfied with your little quest, I'm getting out now. I'm go-"_

_She splashed the salty water into his face, before attacking him. She snaked her arms around his neck, nearly strangling him, before pulling him under the greenish blue waves. As he felt the air escape his startled lungs, he grabbed hold onto her waist, dragging her down under with him as well. Moments later, they resurfaced, gasping for air, refocusing after their underwater oxygen deprived state. The waves had taken them to deeper waters._

_Ichigo squinted against the blinding afternoon sun once more, ready to yell at her until her ears rang, but when he looked over at her, he stopped._

_She was laughing._

_It wasn't a mocking laugh, but merely one of utter amusement. It trickled easily from her throat, like a graceful melody. Watching her laugh made his features soften into a full blown grin. He found himself laughing along with her, in spite of himself. He never truly had the chance to hear her laugh. To be able to her laugh wasn't a gift bestowed onto just any old bloke._

_"Come on, let's go back," he said after the raucous laughter had finally died down._

_She cracked another grin, following him wordlessly in agreement._

--

"Oi, Ichigo, what're you staring at so intensely?"

He blinked, relocating himself.

He was at the beach with his class. Class trip.

Right.

He squinted up, shading his eyes with his right hand.

"Aa, Tatsuki," he said.

The purple-haired girl took a seat next to him in the sand. She cast him a sideways glance, almost as if to say, "What are you daydreaming about?"

He tore his gaze from the familiar depths of the ocean, opening his mouth, "So, shouldn't you be with Inoue or something?" He felt the sting; it sounded so rude, much ruder than he'd thought it was in his head, but the girl didn't seem to mind.

"Oh, Orihime? She's gone off to buy something cold from the snack bar."

"Oh," he quietly answered, with nothing to say.

The silence steeled its presence into their awkward conversation once more.

"You should come to karate again this summer," she said suddenly.

"Why?" he asked, continuing the rampage of rudeness. He didn't want to be selfish, anything but that. Yet right now, he didn't want an intruder on his silence, on his pain. He wanted to bear it alone, without anyone ruining it.

"For old time's sake."

He looked at her before answering, "Well, Tatsuki, I mean, you know. I have the whole sword shinigami thing…"

"Oh, right." She sniffed in amusement. "I was so surprised when you and Rukia-chan came tumbling out of that tunnel underneath Urahara-san's shop."

His mind pulled a rebound on him, as the thoughts of that incident slowly seeped its essence into his mind.

"Yeah," he agreed, remembering the shock of seeing Tatsuki, Mizuiro, and Keigo there.

Even as the conversation hit a dead end once more, he didn't pay much mind to the silence. Right now, that's what he craved. That silence was the tonic for his pain, giving him room to think, to look back on the past. His past, with her.

"Are you still hung up over her?"

One for Tatsuki, zero for Ichigo. He furrowed his brows together in a tighter scowl.

"I'm not hung up over anyone!" he hotly exclaimed.

"Are you?" she asked again.

"Who?" he questioned, knowing fully well _who_ the ruddy hell she was talking about.

"Rukia-chan."

He looked Tatsuki in the eye, and then looked away, giving a long, embittering sigh. That seemed to have relayed his sorrow to his prying friend.

She looked absolutely alarmed at his reaction. "Hey, don't sound so depressed about it," she tried to comfort, "it's not like she's never coming back, right?"

"Honestly, I don't know," he murmured, shooting down his classmate's attempts in healing his scars.

She gave a scowl, feeling the morose mood hanging overhead.

Suddenly, they heard an enthusiastic, "Tatsuki-chan!"

The purple haired girl got up, before saying, "Well, feel free to talk about it." She seemed almost grateful for the interruption. He saw Inoue holding out an ice cream cone, as Tatsuki ran over the sandy hills to her orange haired friend.

--

_"Here."_

_He handed her an ice cream, the kind wrapped in paper and foil. Her eyes lit up at once from their previous irritated glower that had built up from waiting for his return. She watched as he unwrapped the blue paper. When he handed it to her, she frowned, scrutinizing the cone._

_After a while, he frowned too, getting impatient._

_"What's wrong with it?"_

_"It's Strawberry__¹__."_

_Feeling his ego starting to deflate he asked brusquely, "So? What's wrong with Strawberry__²__?"_

_"Nothing really, I guess. But they're kind of annoying, and it gives me a brain freeze. More often than not, a massive headache to go along with it." She smirked at the way his brows were sporting a new level of frowning._

_Yes, his ego was slowly being deflated. Ichigo could hear the oxygen leaving the tank._

_"Hmph. So? I don't remember you telling me not to get strawberry, ³" he muttered dejectedly._

_"I didn't," she said happily, stealing the cone from his hands. "Even if Strawberry gives me a headache, I think I still like it."_

_She licked the ice cream, savoring it in little bites. He followed suit, satisfied, opening his own mint ice cream. They sat in silence, enjoying their respective flavors. For now, this would do._

_They could argue about who'd throw away the wrappers later._

--

He had basked din sunlight all day, sitting alone, under his beach umbrella. The sunset was settling in quite nicely, and they were set to leave in less than an hour. He decided to take his prolonged walk along the wet sand, soaking in the last bits of sunlight, staring out at the fading shades of reds and oranges that were blending in with the blues, sinking into his favored shade of purple.

He found an idle stick and bent down on his haunches, in an almost childlike position, working on his new sand masterpiece.

--

_"Oi, we gotta get home now," he barked._

_She glanced out at the horizon._

_"Hmm, sunset already?"_

_They stood in silence, as she finished the last touches of her work in the wet sand. Ichigo stood in the dry grains, hoping that the grimy crap wouldn't get on his feet, but he soon discarded the idea and walked over to her anyways. He was curious about what she was doing with that stick. _

_He bent over, catching the last bits of sun to see her one colored, monotone artwork. As usual, it was horrendous, but he knew better than to say it aloud._

_"Err…" he didn't know what to say to his raven-haired companion about her picture of rather deformed Chappies in beachwear. Everything that he could think of at the moment involved him earning a nice meaty slap or punch to his body; worst case scenario being that he'd be in his grave soon. Instead, he just remained silent. She glowered in disdain, socking him in the stomach, earning a muffled, "Oomph!" from him before walking away._

_"Let's go, fool," she callously ordered over her shoulder. Rukia walked over to their beach umbrella, ready to go home._

_He ignored her, knowing she wasn't serious anyways. He looked at the picture once more. It was a montage of sorts; it portrayed their day spent together._

_"Stupid idiot," he mumbled absently_

_The characters were a rabbit in a sunhat and swimsuit, and another overly tall rabbit in just an air of swim shorts. They was a scene depicting a rather evil looking rabbit dunking the male rabbit, tanning, writing stupid things on his bag with sun block. Which y the way, "idiot" wasn't the best thing to have imprinted on your skin. There was another scene of them eat ice cream, attempting to bury him in the sand, and the last one was of them napping under his beach umbrella together._

_He shook his head in amusement. Underneath the whole thing she'd written: "Kuchiki Rukia will never forget this day. - .21. 07. 06."_

_"Ah! Ichigo! Hurry it up, dumbass!" her voice berated over the rolling waves crashing onto the sand._

_He stood up, giving the mural one last look, and smiled, tenderly almost._

_It wasn't that the mosaic was any less horrendous than it was before, and boy was it horrendous, but he found these strange deformed rabbit alter egos of themselves to be strangely endearing._

_He gave a lopsided smirk, running to her, over the hills of the dry sand, eager to get home._

--

"Kurosaki," a familiar voice called from behind, disturbing the silence once more.

"What?"

"Time to go."

He stood up, heaving his weight off of his heels, back aching from being hunched over.

"Okay." He dropped the stick, walking past the Quincy boy.

The Quincy scanned his eyes towards the Vaizard's previous work, and read the text: "Kurosaki Ichigo will never forget.21.07.06.

Somehow, he understood, and he didn't plan on bullying his friend about being sentimental, or unmanly. Not out of affection or friendship in anyways, he defended himself, it wasn't like the carrot top didn't have grounds to make fun of his "feminine" sewing skills.

"Ishida! We're leaving without you!" Ichigo called from the parking lot. He seemed rather exhilarated at the idea of leaving him there.

"Aa?! Kurosaki!" he bellowed.

He was pretty sure that Ishida had read it. Damn, the arrogant, prying little- He'd probably say something about being girly

"Hurry up then, idiot!"

"Shut up, bastard! It's all because I went to get you."

Saying he was being sentimental and shit

"Whatever it's your own fault!"

But, he didn't really care.

"You ass!"

Because, really, he'd never forget it, not as long as he lived, or died for that matter.

"Uh, the bus! It's pulling out of the lot! I'm going to run after it now! Bye!"

_That day with Rukia._

"What?!"

_.21.07.06_

* * *

¹The Strawberry here is intentionally capitalized. This Strawberry is Ichigo. :D

² The Strawberry here is also intentionally capitalized. This is also Ichigo.

³ This time, he means the flavor Strawberry. ;;

Excuse the date .21.07.06. Honestly, I didn't know whether to put it in '07, or '06. Then, I decided to put it in '06, because for it to be summer, it can't be past July '07.

Thank you for reading!

I promise that I'll try to change the styles of the story, but for the first few chapters, the idea is to introduce to the reader exactly what's been going on in their little world. And I kind of used this as a vent to make little one shots instead of doing a themed challenge or anything like that.


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